


The Prize

by greygerbil



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Barebacking, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Riding, Rough Sex, past Alexios/Thaletas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: When Alexios takes his lover Stentor to Mykonos, a meeting with Thaletas convinces Stentor he has to prove he won't give up his spot by Alexios' side without a fight.





	The Prize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



> I had a lot of fun with your tags and prompts and I hope you enjoy this treat.

“Here, Alexios! To your health.”

Thaletas grinned broadly as he slung his arm around Alexios’ shoulders and refilled his cup, spilling red wine over his fingers as he did so. His mood had been brilliant all evening, as was Kyra’s. Alexios could not fault them. Mykonos seemed to be blooming since Podarkes had been removed from leadership, and Sparta was happy with Thaletas’ influence here and ready to lend soldiers to keep the peace if necessary, even if Alexios had a feeling Thaletas wasn’t in it for his old home anymore. Watching people celebrate in the town square, free of troubles for once, made up for the at this point mostly rote whisper of displeasure he still felt when he saw Thaletas make his way back to Kyra after slapping him on the back once more. You couldn’t always win, he supposed. But he’d not come alone himself, and Thaletas had been off his mind until he came here to chase a Cultist, so he could hardly say he carried much worse than a bruised pride at this point.

“You know Thaletas?” Stentor asked, taking the empty spot by his side.

“I helped out here in Mykonos when they were disposing of an Athenian ruler. You do, too?”

Alexios handed him his cup and Stentor took a sip.

“Way back from the _agoge_ , and as we were grown, we’ve met in Sparta at times. We have never fought a real battle together, though,” Stentor answered.

“You make it sound like that is the one way to get to know a man.”

“It’s certainly not a bad way.”

Alexios laughed. Stentor and Thaletas would have gotten along, had they taken time to get to know each other properly. Or perhaps they would have killed each other. It was difficult to tell with these Spartan men sometimes.

Stentor turned the goblet in his hand. “But what I meant was: _How_ well do you know Thaletas?”

Now Alexios thought he heard mistrust in his voice. It wasn’t really a surprise that Stentor had noticed there were some missing boundaries, with Thaletas hanging on Alexios at every opportunity tonight, and Alexios had never made a secret of the fact that he had taken his pleasure where he went before the two of them had grown to care for each other.

“Intimately.” He grinned. “It was just a handful of times, though,” he added and shrugged. “I’d hoped it’d be more, but he made his decisions.”

“And then I guess one Spartan _polemarch_ was as good as another?” Stentor snapped, narrowing his eyes at him. “How fortunate for you that he’s affectionate tonight so that you can once more enjoy the presence of the man you actually wanted.”

“Stentor, that was three years ago-”

Alexios found himself interrupted by two of the former rebels, who were shouting at him to come over to Kyra and have a drink with her, too. Before he’d had a chance to think of the right words to get rid of them, Stentor had slammed Alexios’ cup down on the nearest surface and vanished into the crowd.

Deciding that it was best to let him cool off – and hoping he wasn’t actually just simmering instead –, Alexios went with the men, but his mind was stuck on that bit of conversation they’d had. Stentor’s jealousy had been directed at Alexios plenty of times, usually where it concerned their father, but up to now he had never been jealous of other men because of Alexios’ attention. Then again, Alexios had not given him a reason so far, and he feared handsome Thaletas all over him may have bothered even a much less prideful man than Stentor. He would have to make some amends.

When Kyra released him after some reminiscing and another cup of wine, Alexios went in search of his lover, passing past people dancing to a singer’s mournful wail and sitting in groups under a cloudless, starry sky, laughing and drinking. The flowers were in bloom just as they’d been when he had spent those few weeks here with the rebels, their smell sweet and heavy in the air. He wondered if Stentor would follow him up into the hills tomorrow where they could be alone. Mykonos was far enough away from home and not so densely populated; they could risk enjoying each other under the bright noon sun here. That was provided Stentor would talk to him by the morning...

A hand wrapped around his wrist from behind. Alexios tensed, but before he could shake himself free as instinct told him to, he saw Stentor step forward. His lover pulled him sideways through a curtain, into a small, one-room building that was stacked with supplies for the festivities, crates of wine and figs and olives in jars. Stentor pushed him past those towards a broad stone bench.

“What’s happening?” Alexios asked, stumbling more than sitting down on it.

“Watch,” Stentor growled, pushing Alexios’ thighs apart with strong hands as he fell to his knees between them. When seated, he held the leather strips of Alexios’ skirt aside with one hand while the other yanked down the white fabric of his undergarments until he could take Alexios’ cock in hand. It had been soft a moment ago, but filled in Stentor’s hand already just for the look he was giving him, his eyes all full of fire. Nothing in his demeanour said that he wasn’t still as furious as he’d been when Alexios had last seen him, which made the idea of his teeth so close to Alexios’ cock at least a little bit of a risk, but one Alexios was willing to take, for the feeling of Stentor’s calloused hand gripping him contrasted with his soft lips wrapped around the head of his cock was the sort of thing that a man might gladly be brought to much greater ruin for.

Alexios leaned back with a low groan as Stentor wasted no time stroking him to full hardness before he dipped his head down, taking him in so far that Alexios could feel himself bumping against the soft back of his mouth at once. Alexios had never in his life bedded a man who could give head like he was somehow trying to win a war with it, but he would never complain. There was more urge than even usual behind it now, though. Stentor did not give himself a second to breathe before angling his head to better let Alexios slide deep into his throat, even as Alexios could feel him gagging around his cock. The pressure of his throat constricting sent lightning bolts through his body, helped along by the look of determination on Stentor’s flushed face.

Alexios let one hand rest gently on his head. He wanted to wait for him to steady his breathing before he moved, but once more Stentor continued without a hitch, pulling off and then taking him in deep enough that his nose was almost buried in the short coarse hair between Alexios’ legs, and involuntarily, Alexios rocked into his mouth to push in that last inch, too surprised to resist the temptation. Stentor’s fingertips dug deep into the muscle of Alexios’ thigh, but he did not pull away. The man never backed down from a challenge.

“Gods,” Alexios murmured, fingers wound tightly into his short hair.

Stentor moved slow and deliberately, taking in the whole shaft with every press forward, one hand cradling Alexios’ balls, holding them just tight enough to be at the edge of pain, and Alexios was ready to lose himself in the sensation when suddenly Stentor sat back, leaving his spit-slick cock exposed to a rush of air that felt cool as ice water despite the warmth of the night.

Alexios was about to protest, but Stentor was already on his feet and pulling down his own undergarments over his metal greaves and sandals. With a firm grip, he took Alexios’ shoulders in his hands and pushed him sideways and back, to lie flat on the bench he’d been sitting on. With his brain filled by a thick fog of arousal, it took Alexios a moment to realise what Stentor had planned.

“I did not let Thaletas beat me when we fought with sticks when we were boys, and he’s not going to beat me now,” Stentor announced, as he straddled Alexios’ middle, breathless and rough-voiced from his previous adventures.

“You Spartans – always so competitive,” Alexios teased, running his hands up the back of his thighs, stroking the straining muscle there and up over his naked cheeks, pushing his fingers between them. “Want me to ease the way?”

“No need,” Stentor said, haughtily, as he reached behind himself to position Alexios’ cock and line it up with his entrance.

Alexios hissed as he pushed inside when Stentor rolled his hips back. It was somehow a tighter fit than even sliding into his throat, with just the spit to help along. Stentor’s fingers left red marks on Alexios’ arms as he clung to him, shifting his weight so that it pulled him down on Alexios’ cock.

Pressing his head against the bench, Alexios swallowed a noise that would most certainly have alerted the people outside and dragged his hands along Stentor’s legs again. He loved the feeling of the leather straps of his battle skirt sliding against his hands, the cold metal of his golden breastplate and greaves against his fingertips, seeing him dressed in all the trappings of a respected Spartan _polemarch_ while he sank down on Alexios’ cock.

Still, it was quite the task he’d set himself – if Alexios said so himself –, and Stentor had to stop himself from taking his sizeable manhood in one go, tensing. Moving his hand down, Alexios reached under the leather and fabric to grab his cock, giving it a few tight strokes. The shudder rippling through Stentor was beautiful to behold.

“Should have let me prepare you,” Alexios said, grinning. “You’re always so loose and willing after I finger you properly...”

Stentor leaned down and bit at his jaw, and then moved his mouth down to really latch on to his shoulder. The pain mixed too well with the fire in Alexios’ belly to keep in a moan.

“Do you want to let everyone hear what we’re doing in here?” Stentor asked smugly.

“You really are a wolf’s son,” Alexios muttered, rubbing the bite marks on his skin. Those would stay for a fair few days.

“That’s how you like it, _misthios_.”

Stentor moved his hips, and each small downward thrust brought him closer to flush with Alexios’ skin. Now sufficiently bristling, Alexios met him, and smirked at the sound of pleased surprise that Stentor made.

“I thought you wanted to be quiet,” he drawled.

Stentor scowled at him, even as he started riding him in earnest now, obviously too impatient to tease him any longer, or give himself more time to adjust. Alexios watched him work for a moment, just enjoying the sight, before finally grabbing his hips.

It went fast and hard, metal parts of their armour rattling as they came together. Stentor dragged his fingernails across Alexios’ naked arms and leaned down to his neck, placing greedy, sucking kisses on the sensitive skin of Alexios’ throat. When Stentor finally sat up to get the best angle to take him in deep, back arched and mouth open as he panted, Alexios had to bite his lip bloody not to shout as he came. It only took a few rough strokes of his hand to get Stentor to spend himself, too.

They caught their breath for a moment. Alexios could hear music and voices and laughter outside again, which somehow had been drowned out by even the quietest noise Stentor had made before, for they had commanded Alexios’ attention fully. The air was warm and smelled like ripe fruit. Stentor’s thick thighs held firm around his hips, a comfortable pressure. He looked very handsome with his hair messed up and his cheeks red, for a moment devoid of all the tension that usually ran through him, content to lean with his hands on Alexios’ chest, head hanging between his shoulders.

Life had let him down some wild and dangerous ways, but there were moments that made Alexios think the road had been worth the trouble when he considered where he’d ended up.

When Stentor climbed off of him to find his underwear, Alexios cleaned his fingers on an old cloth hanging over the side of the bench.

“You could have pulled out and spent yourself on my thighs,” Stentor said, though he did not sound as displeased as he seemed to aim for. “Now my underwear will be ruined.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it off of you later. Besides, you marked me up like a dog would his favourite stick. I had to leave something behind, too,” Alexios gave back, rubbing his finger along a scratch mark on his forearm.

“It should be obvious in some way you are spoken for,” Stentor muttered, moving towards the door.

Alexios grabbed him by the elbow. As Stentor turned, he pulled him in, moving his hand up to the back of his head, and kissed him, long and slow.

“There is only one _polemarch_ whose orders I follow these days,” he reminded him. Much as he enjoyed Stentor’s flared temper if it had such results, he’d rather not sour his whole night by making him worry for no reason at all. “And only one man I’m taking to bed. Every other one pales in comparison.” He released him, but put his arm around Stentor’s middle. “Now, let’s go.”

Alexios caught a flicker of a smile on Stentor’s lips as he pulled him back outside.


End file.
